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Carina was dreaming again… Dreaming of her.
Her bambina. Her Maya. Her wife, her soulmate. Maya meant the world to the Italian, explicably so. In a world where everything felt like it was on fire, the blonde was her sanctuary. Throughout Carina’s life, people came and left, leaving a trail of hurt behind them, but Maya was a constant.
She was someone who loved so wholeheartedly, cared immensely and was a perfect combination of being beautiful on the inside and out.
Maya frequented the brunette’s conscious and unconscious states. Her beautiful blue eyes, golden hair, generous spirit, kind heart and contagious, thrilling smile… it followed her everywhere. Not that Carina minded, of course.
Carina craved physical touch as her love language, and the blonde’s was her favourite sensation. Truly, there were not enough words to explain just what Maya’s touch meant to her. It filled her with warmth, with joy, with relief, with butterflies that flapped their wings when the blonde did practically anything.
The way that Maya’s hands would ground her, holding her steady, her skin sometimes rough from firefighting, and the pad of her fingers impossibly gentle as they caressed the Italian’s cheek, tracing her lips, brushing against Carina’s freckles, her eyelashes… How the blonde would twirl a curly lock of Carina’s hair on her finger, humming softly to herself as she did, the little rasp of her voice enough to make the brunette go crazy…
Maya was a part of her. She wasn’t just Carina’s wife… She was everything. There was no other way to describe it. She was an integral piece of the puzzle that made up Carina DeLuca-Bishop.
When Carina had a nightmare, or a flashback from one of the horrors of her past, Maya was there. When Carina wouldn’t sleep, Maya was there. She would sit on the shower floor next to Carina, not caring if the floor was hard, cold and damp. She sat and waited patiently, the perfect distance away. She made sure that Carina was never alone in whatever she was feeling.
Not one time did Maya ever pry. She never forced the Italian to talk. Her presence alone was enough.
“I love you… and I’ve never said that about anyone before, except my brother, so it means something. I love you, Carina,”
When Carina felt dirty from that man in an alleyway when she was sixteen, Maya was there. She waited, following the Italian’s lead. When Carina sobbed about the heart-wrenching pain of losing her brother and mamma, Maya was there. When Carina missed the familiar streets of Italy, Maya was there, researching feverishly before bringing the streets of Italy to their apartment. She wiped Carina’s tears, helped soothe the Italian enough where she could sleep, coaxed food into her ever so gently…
She reminded Carina how good it felt to laugh, to dance, to cry.
Maya turned what would normally be painful anniversaries spent in bed, crying, into ones where Carina smiled, reminisced and laughed. Maya tried her best, using every tool in the box, and the thought alone that her beautiful wife would do research and consult her therapist on ways to help Carina when she had a bad day, was sweet enough to make Carina want to cry with joy.
Carina had never had someone care for her as much as Maya did; not in the way that her mamma or brother did. Her wife’s methods were different, each gesture saturated in spousal love, with pure, unconditional and boundless respect. In trust, gratitude, joy… Maya’s devotion to her reminded the Italian that no matter how many loved ones had left her too soon, she wasn’t alone, and as long as Maya lived and breathed, she would never be alone ever again.
“I love you, and I choose you… forever,”
In the days where Carina was happy, Maya continued to be a light in her life.
She loved to surprise Carina with a coffee and dinner on a long shift, roses that the blonde had picked up on the way home from work, and ordering some of the brunette’s favourite Italian chocolates all the way from Italy… The cabinet was always well-stocked for when Carina’s heart ached for the Catanian treats of her childhood.
Maya kept Carina on her toes by planning impromptu date nights where they would spend at the pier, ice creams in one hand, and their other one intertwined carefully in her wife’s.
Carina was mesmerized by Maya; the way she was effortlessly beautiful, her determination and work ethic, but also how deeply she cared, how passionate she was… how much love her heart was capable of.
She loved the little things, like how Maya’s blue eyes changed colours. When she felt strong emotions, those baby blue eyes darkened, looking more like choppy waves in a storm. But, when she was relaxed, content or hopeful, they were light, like a beautiful blue sky. How when Maya was excited, her hands shook, and her voice was an octave higher than it usually was. How when she had something on her mind, her legs couldn’t stop jittering. Or how Maya would struggle to sleep on shifts, but when she was with Carina, specifically within her arms, she would drift off within seconds.
God, Carina loved everything about Maya.
Her excitement about clipboards and organization. Her wife’s strength and resilience. How Maya kept little notes of Carina’s favourite things on her phone and on her bedside table. The high-pitched voice she would only use for excited dogs and wriggly babies. And the little things, like her sleeping habits were adorable; her little snores, and the fact that even in her deepest of sleeps, she was always moving. How she needed to hold Carina to sleep, her head finding its place on the crook of Carina’s neck, her lips less than an inch from the Italian’s skin.
It was all so fucking amazing.
Loving Maya Bishop was one of the greatest things of Carina’s life.
The Italian had not realized how amazing it felt to be loved like this, appreciated and valued as she was with the blonde. She had this incredible angel, someone who devoted herself to making the Italian happy, and stayed right by Carina’s side, no matter how ugly her grief got. She was there to talk Carina down, and make sure that the Italian didn't blame herself in any way for the things that had happened in her past.
She was so grateful when she realized that her heart had shifted; Andrea, but also Maya, was now the other half of her whole. Maya reminded her of the future. Of how she had someone by her side to weather the storms with…
How in this crazy mess of a changing world, the Italian was lucky to have her favourite person by her side.
Maya awoke before her wife that morning.
She awoke at the edge of the bed, like she usually did, with Carina’s body pressed against her.
This was all very typical, as Maya learned that Carina simply didn’t sleep on her side of the bed. No matter which side Maya slept on, she woke on the edge of the bed, with her wife pressed against her, the brunette usually snoring softly in her ear. The Italian was a snuggle bug, and it was adorable.
It was everything that Maya needed.
Now that she was free from her dad’s control, affection wasn’t something that weakened her anymore… but now… it was something that Maya sought out. It was something that the blonde craved. She craved Carina, always.
Every so often, Maya would be filled with the desperate need to be held by her favourite human on the planet, aching to feel the Italian’s warmth against her, feeling Carina’s fingers rubbing patterns against Maya’s back, or working their way through Maya’s blonde locks…
Currently, the clock read that it was past eight, and Carina was still fast asleep, snuggled against the blonde.
Her breaths were gentle and even, her arm thrown over her wife’s body almost to make sure Maya didn’t go anywhere, her face less than an inch from Maya’s neck. She could feel the Italian’s rhythmic breathing, feel her beautiful, generous heart beating, see her chest rising and falling methodically…
Maya joked that the Italian was her weighted blanket, because no matter what, Carina needed to be held or sleep directly in contact with Maya in some way. The Italian used to flush with embarrassment about that, as if needing attention from Maya was something to be ashamed of, but Maya was honest and open with her, which was something that the Italian knew was difficult.
“ Carina, it’s healing. You, your hugs… your touch… heals me. It makes me feel whole, like I have never felt before,” she’d admitted, her voice thick with emotion.
And now, Carina embraced it. She was happy of the fact that even in her deepest of sleeps, she gravitated towards her wife, burrowing in Maya’s embrace and sighing contentedly. Every night that they were together, the Italian would nuzzle into the blonde’s arms, pressing a kiss to Maya’s chest, the position varying as to wherever she would rest her head.
With her soulmate pressed against her, the blonde could breathe easy, whether it be after a hard day, a long day, or just one where she missed the Italian. The weight of Carina’s body was comfortable.
It was soothing, relaxing, peaceful… It was everything.
Being a firefighter, Maya knew her job was dangerous. Before meeting her wife, Maya was thrilled for the three, four or five alarm fires. She loved the danger, the adrenaline she’d feel after battling thousands of degrees of heat, extinguishing crackling flames. Maya used to be a risk-taker, someone who would volunteer for the most perilous positions, someone who would go to battle to save a life.
However now… not so much. Danger scared her, because she had a reason to be careful. Carina was her reason, her reminder of how precious life was, how she wanted to live, to love, to laugh. The Italian’s face would calm Maya when on calls her heart would flutter with anxiety, thinking of the mantras that her amazing wife would say.
"No eyes forward, eyes only on me. Good… Breathe."
Now that she had a wife, her soulmate and her forever by her side, Maya made sure to be careful. They wanted to bring a baby into this world, which was even more of a reason to be safe.
She was methodical, calculating risks before she jumped into a situation, using every bit of energy within her to be smart and to ensure that she would come home to her Italian beauty. Her wife, who would stay up and wait for Maya to come home from a shift, the woman who would force herself to stay awake to make sure her partner got home safely, or if there was a big call, Carina would drive to the station and sleep in her bunk, clutching Maya’s sweater in her arms.
Maya watched her wife sleep with a goofy grin on her face.
Carina was incredible. Carina was there, always by her side, her best friend and partner all rolled into one. It was remarkable how much the Italian had effortlessly changed Maya’s life with a simple smile. When things were overwhelming, observing Carina sleeping seemed to make things better. It was a tell-tale cure for her nightly anxiety.
“If I buy you a drink, will you tell me the story of how you ended up with a nose in a plastic bag?”
Their relationship had taken off, and the eyes-forward Maya found herself laughing without guilt, enjoying carbs without punishment… admitting feelings, crying, being open and honest. How she felt with Carina… Maya had never felt like this in her life, and that scared her. Maya loved her wife so much that it ached. It terrified her, but in the best, most incredible way.
Maya didn’t think she would be lucky enough to find a partner, and she had made peace with that fact, but when they started to talk more, not even girlfriends yet, that logic flew out the window.
Before their first date, Maya knew that Carina DeLuca was special. More than special, she quickly realized.
It was terrifying to realize that she had opened her heart up to be broken, how she had handed over her trust to the Italian, who had Maya wrapped around her finger. But unlike everyone else, Carina treated Maya with such gentleness. Bringing her lasagna on bad days… texting her before every shift… FaceTiming her on their breaks…
Turning her attention back to her slumbering, softly snoring wife, Maya sighed contentedly. Carina was a picture of beauty, even in her sleep. How could someone look this gorgeous? This flawless? It was a question she wanted to ask scientists.
Her beauty was phenomenal… it was effortless, serene…
God, Maya loved this woman.
Maya loved Carina more than she had ever loved anything or anyone before. It was terrifying, yet at the same time, she felt so safe, so seen, so treasured and valued with the Italian.
She was Maya’s safety net. Carina meant warmth, trust, love, affection, gentleness. She was Maya’s fiercest protector, someone she could always count on to reassure her, wrap her in a hug. Maya used to think she didn’t deserve love. She never planned to settle down, or have a relationship. Her teammates used to tease her about her obvious disdain for monogamous relationships, but that was thrown out the window once the Italian entered her life.
“What you and I have is… ah… fantastico. Maya, it’s ours. Just ours,”
Her teammates made fun of her for how Carina had her wrapped around her finger, but Maya didn’t care. It was true, and she loved it. Being with Carina, with someone as charismatic, kind, empathetic and loving as Carina DeLuca was astronomical. Maya still felt like she was dreaming.
As Carina was asleep, the blonde reminisced on how far she had come. Maya used to think about dying… more than she liked to admit. She’d confessed it reluctantly to Diane in a session years ago, remembering the words that left her lips.
I think about dying… since I was twelve. It soothes me when I can't sleep… or when I'm anxious, or when nothing else would.
The passive suicidality that she felt would keep her residual feelings and horrific memories from growing up in an abusive home at bay. It would soothe her enough to where she could sleep… But, things were different.
Now, death was not the thing that comforted her. Carina was.
She had realized that the clouds that had haunted her… went away, and instead of thinking about them at night, Maya thought about her beautiful Italian. The one who taught her to laugh, to love… to rest.
Even on the nights when the two were apart, the only way Maya could sleep was when she imagined her wife’s arms around her.
"It’s one of the million reasons I love you, Maya."
Her wife… her gentle, loving, passionate, sweet Italian.
Whenever Maya was anxious, she thought of her wife, and it worked. Carina calmed her. The blonde’s demons couldn’t reach her as easily when she was with Carina. The Italian was phenomenal, and Maya was deeply in love with every single little thing about her.
How Carina’s eyes crinkled when she had a question, how when she was excited, she couldn’t stand still… the way the Italian’s shampoo smelt, the feeling of her wife’s fingers in her hair… the way her smile looked…
There were so many things about Carina that soothed Maya… Reassured her.
Maya remembered when Carina had officially met the team from nineteen, and the blonde proudly introduced Carina as her girlfriend. For months, her friends had been wondering who the mystery woman that their captain was clearly seeing was, and as Carina laughed with Vic, Andy turned to her best friend.
“She must really be something for you to introduce us to her,” the Latina suggested, and Maya couldn’t take her eyes off the Italian as she responded. “No, she’s more than something. She’s everything,”
Carina shifted, mumbling slightly in her sleep, pulling Maya from her thoughts.
Yet another adorable aspect of her wife that Maya couldn’t get enough of; the little conversations they would have when the Italian was fast asleep. Sometimes it was about work protocols, sometimes it was about Andrea… sometimes it was cursing Jack, or whining for Maya to hold her. They were hilarious, healing and grounding, all wrapped into one.
"I didn’t find my home until I met you, bambina. You’re my home."
Maya used to feel bad for being clingy; it was like all her life, she had been eating bland, flavourless food but now she had tasted spice; now, Maya couldn’t get enough of it. Carina would reassure her wife that affection was normal, and it was okay to want more.
It was okay to crave it, which is why she was doing something she would never normally do; waking her wife.
“My love…” Maya whispered, pressing a kiss to Carina’s forehead, watching for any reaction. As expected, there was none, as the Italian slept incredibly deeply. In the blonde’s strong and gentle arms, there was no waking her.
Not when she was in her favourite place.
“Baby…”
“Wake up…”
“Carina…” Maya whispered, her voice louder this time. There was a little bit of movement, and Maya felt a hand against her face, feeling blindly for Maya’s mouth, covering it as if to shush her.
The blonde giggled, pressing a kiss against the Italian’s palm. “I miss you, baby girl,” she teased lovingly.
Carina grunted in response, trying to nuzzle back down into Maya’s body, hiding her face against her wife’s neck as if to burrow back down into unconsciousness. Maya laughed, as her Italian had never been a morning person.
“It’s morning, my beautiful wife,” she cooed gently.
“No… I’m so sleepy,” Carina whined, her words slurred with sleep.
“I miss your sweet face,” Maya teased, and Carina shook her head, burying her face in the blonde’s chest. There were a couple minutes of comfortable silence, and the Italian had nearly drifted back off, her breathing beginning to even out when Maya’s gentle voice rang out again.
“Sunshine…”
Carina sat up, her face puffy with sleep and pillow lines across her cheek.
The Italian had an adorable pout on her face, her bed-head hair impossibly messy, her brown eyes squinting from the light in the room, her hand still laced in Maya’s… Despite the fact that she was trying to look grouchy, Carina could not have looked cuter even if she tried.
“You woke me up,” the Italian huffed, her voice husky from sleep.
“I missed you,” Maya protested with a loving smile, and Carina couldn’t stay mad.
She loved looking into those baby blue orbs that were sparkling with joy. The Italian pressed a sleepy kiss against her wife’s cheek, gently guiding them back down to the bed. Inches apart, the blonde stroked her wife’s face, her finger softly touching Carina’s freckles, tracing her lips, her eyes, brushing her eyelashes and stray locks that had fallen into her face…
The Italian blinked slowly, feeling so comforted that her eyes began to get heavy again.
She forced them back open, one hand cupping Maya’s cheek. The blonde was glowing with happiness, a smile pulled from ear to ear. Maya’s beautiful blue eyes had her favourite sparkle in them; the twinkle that told Carina that Maya was overjoyed.
“I love you,” Carina whispered, and the smile on her wife’s face grew even bigger.
When Carina had come to Seattle, she hadn’t expected to find her soulmate. Not in the least.
She didn’t care if she found a forever; that was not on her list of beliefs. But, when she met Maya for the first time, the Italian felt something different. Right away, she knew this woman was someone incredible.
The blonde had sharp facial features. When Maya was mad, her blue eyes steeled, and her gaze would be unwavering, her stare enough to chill bones. But when the blonde was happy… those same intimidating, icy blue eyes… melted. Her whole face transforms in such a breathtaking way; her eyes fill with tenderness, love and kindness in such a way that Carina had never seen before.
Like her wife had felt about her, Carina could see… could feel… Maya was special. One of a kind.
Despite everything she had been through, Maya was still a giant softie, a clingy koala, the most adorable person to ever grace this planet. She pouted when Carina sat on the couch and didn’t immediately open her arms, or when the Italian didn’t spoon her. When Maya lacked the courage to ask for affection verbally, her fingers would brush against Carina’s, slowly pulling the Italian towards her.
She moved even closer, pressing a gentle kiss to the Italian’s forehead, to her nose, and then to her lips. Maya’s fingers laced themselves in Carina’s brown curls, and her tired eyes grew even heavier.
“Go back to sleep, my love. I love you,” Maya replied softly, her voice thick with gratitude.
The Italian didn’t have to think twice about that, her eyes slipping shut and within thirty seconds, her hand on Maya’s face fell. Those tell-tale, gentle snores rang through the room, and the blonde chuckled.
Maya would move heaven and Earth for Carina.
As the blonde lazily traced her finger over the small of her wife’s back, feeling the Italian snoring softly, the brunette’s warm hands clutching the fabric of her wife’s shirt, Maya finally understood what true love was.
Finally, in the arms of her wife, her soulmate, her forever…
She could rest.